


Yukata and Katsudon

by Bassarid



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drabble, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 04:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bassarid/pseuds/Bassarid
Summary: "Yuri had arrived in Hasetsu before him, and his declaration of “you’ll be sleeping with me” when Otabek had dragged his suitcase into the inn had caused him to bite the inside of his cheek so hard he’d almost drawn blood. Yuri had looked utterly dead pan, and proceeded to show him into their room.Of course, they are friends. Sharing a room isn’t a big deal. Although none of the other guests share a room, and Otabek wonders whose idea it was."In which Otabek loses his cool.





	Yukata and Katsudon

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a drabble, but I'm fond of it.

He has been invited to Hasetsu again. Not that Otabek is complaining, but he wonders why Yuuri and Viktor are so keen to have him here with all their friends and family.

Then again, J.J. is here as well, for some reason, so perhaps it’s only top figure skaters they’ve invited? Maybe they are planning another show and this is their attempt at persuasion, just getting everyone in the mood to discuss business?

Otabek doesn’t know, he really doesn’t, but then – does it matter right now?

He leans forward, chin on his hand, and watches Yuri wolf down a second helping of katsudon, despite the fact that they must have eaten their weight in unfamiliar but tasty food at the festival tonight.

Now little bits of rice and onion land everywhere as Yuri struggles with the chopsticks, but he’d adamantly refused a fork when Yuuri had offered to give him one.

Otabek tries to hide his smile behind his hand.

  
These past few days, Yuri has looked happier and more carefree than Otabek has ever seen him before. Such a change since they’d last met at worlds. Of course, off-season is always less stressful, and they have hardly met on occasions other than competitions, when Yuri is always tense as a bowstring – everyone is always tense then.

He’s beautiful in his yukata.  
But then, he’s always beautiful.  
Only now, he is beautiful and very close, and there is no competition to distract Otabek from thinking about it. And something inside Otabek aches with longing when he looks at Yuri, even though he’s sitting right across from him.

“Bed?” Yuri asks abruptly after finishing his food, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

Otabek looks around; everyone else is busy. J.J. is talking animately to Yuuri’s sister, Yuuri and Viktor are half drunk and lost in one another, and to his surprise, he eventually sees Phichit Chulanont, Christophe’s head in his lap, stroking the Swiss skater’s hair gently, with an unmistakably tender expression on his face. He can’t tell if Christophe is asleep, but it looks like it. He turns away quickly, it feels like he’s seen something private, not meant for him.

“No one here will miss us,” Yuri says, following his gaze, and looking deeply unimpressed by everyone else.

Otabek just nods, and follows Yuri to their room.

Their room.

Yuri had arrived in Hasetsu before him, and his declaration of “you’ll be sleeping with me” when Otabek had dragged his suitcase into the inn had caused him to bite the inside of his cheek so hard he’d almost drawn blood. Yuri had looked utterly dead pan, and proceeded to show him into their room.

Of course, they are friends. Sharing a room isn’t a big deal. Although none of the other guests share a room, and Otabek wonders whose idea it was.

They had not put away their futons that morning, though Otabek had made a valiant attempt before Yuri had pulled him away.

Now Yuri flops down onto his futon and takes the ornamental tiger off his hair, before pulling his hair loose and shaking it, then running his fingers through it with a sigh.

Otabek sits down and watches him, giving a soft chuckle as the yukata slides off Yuri’s shoulder on one side, revealing…

“You’ve got food on your chest, Yura.”

“What?”

Yuri looks down and though he blushes, he snorts, too, as he notices the rice that clings to him.

“I’m like one of those human buffet tables. You can eat off me.”

Yuri wipes the morsel off with his forefinger, apparently unaware of the effect his words have on Otabek, then holds his finger out to him, an unmistakable challenge in his eyes.

With hardly a thought, Otabek leans forward and licks it off Yuri’s finger, blood rushing to his face immediately. He thinks of Barcelona, and when his eyes meet Yuri’s, he’s certain that Yuri remembers what he remembers.

In the heat of the moment, taking Yuri’s glove off with his mouth had been perfect, had felt just right, but after the show things had been awkward. They’d managed to laugh about it, eventually, but now…

Yuri seems reluctant to take his hand away, and Otabek closes his eyes and presses a kiss to his fingertips.

There is only so much a man can endure before he breaks, and his feelings for Yuri are ready to spill out of him like water from a broken pipe.

“Beka…”

He can’t interpret the tone of Yuri’s voice, but he’s not ready to open his eyes again yet, for fear of what he might see.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, words that have been at the tip of his tongue for months now slipping through the cracks in his composure. “Like a diamond, like lightning, hard and fierce and ethereal, so beautiful it hurts.”

He’s not even drunk, doesn’t have any excuse for this at all.

“Fucking look at me when I’m going to kiss you, you idiot!” Yuri snarls, and the second Otabek’s eyes snap open, Yuri has a hand in his hair and presses a hard, hot kiss to his lips.

“There,” Yuri says, glaring at him, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Otabek can only blink at him.

“I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me for ages. Instead you start waxing poetic on me. Ugh.”

He feels a helpless grin spreading on his lips, and the corners of Yuri’s mouth are twitching, too.

“Baka,” he mutters, his favourite Japanese word by far, if Otabek is any judge.

“I am terribly sorry,” Otabek says, reaching out for Yuri, who leans into his touch in a way Otabek has dreamed about for months. “How can I ever make it up to you?”

The only answer is another kiss, one that is a lot less angry than their first.

Otabek spends a lot of time over the next days atoning for his poetic inclinations. He doesn’t mind. Not at all.

 


End file.
